Whispers in the Dark:Alternate Ending
by elegancexandxtears
Summary: Very dark alternate way the story could have gone. M for language, attemptive rape, violence, and just overall darkness. Starts after chap nine of "What Could Have Been" ONESHOT


**A/N this is an alternate way that my story could've gone (continue after chapter 9). But I only just thought of it-and y'all are probably glad I didn't make this the ending to the story! ONESHOT RATED: M (or R) for language, violence, and attemptive rape...Oh, and I don't own Labyrinth.**

It had been ten years, but Sarah had never stopped worrying.

She lived her life in constant fear that _he _would come back. That he would take her now eleven year old brother, Toby. That he would come back and ra…..even after all this time she couldn't think it. Though the pain had dulled with time, it still stung to remember his flesh against hers. The pain as he entered her and took her innocence…..

She shook her head, trying to clear the memories from her mind-but all they did was retreat into the back of her mind. Ready to spring out at her when she was vulnerable.

Surprisingly, the one time those memories should have plagued her the worst-when they should have been unbearable-was when she looked at her son.

Though in all technicality, her son was _his _biologically-she realized quickly that that was all they shared. She never hated her son-all she ever had for him was love.

Sadly, that was true materialistically as well. That was all she could give.

Karen and her father had made her leave-even though she was a pregnant sixteen year old that had no say-that had been ra-saying she was a bad influence on Toby-even though the child was only one and too young to understand.

Sarah remembered their reactions perfectly when she had told them. She had stood there for several seconds-Karen and her father staring at her with blank expressions.

Karen had been the first to react.

"YOU BITCH!" she had screamed, leaping to her feet. "You little whore! How dare you play slut while under our roof! Was that him? The smell I smelt on Toby that night? You had him over?"

"Not quite," she had murmured, feeling like she was falling into pieces.

She had screamed then, and then charged at Sarah.

She only managed to smack her and push her against the table-Sarah felt the china on the table break, cutting her wrists and arms-when dad grabbed Karen and held her back.

"I don't want her here!" Sarah remembered Karen saying-and then she was out the door with nothing but herself and and her unborn baby.

But she smiled as she watched her ten year old son sitting in their small dining room/kitchen. He was blonde haired, blue eyed-and pale despite his love of playing outside in the sun (which he only did when they secretly met with Toby and Roger in a park-or at school. The neighborhood was too dangerous for him to play outside.) In effect, he looked like his father-though he had inherited his mother's sweet and kind personality.

But that personality changed when he was angry.

Sarah didn't know that though-he rarely got into trouble because he didn't want his mother to be upset or disappointed in him. So he would go that extra mile to stay out of trouble. Even if it did mean that the bullies at school would beat him up.

"Mama?" he looked up at her with that wide eyed glance. He knew he should tell her about how he got angry today-but he didn't want to see that disappointment in her eyes. But the note the teacher had sent home had to be signed-and the fact that he had to miss schools because he had been susses….sus-something-or-other.

"Yes, sweetie?" she looked up at him, her hazel-silvery eyes holding a life in them that he only saw when she looked at him-there was a little of it when she looked at Toby, but he saw her visibly flinch from everyone else-including her own father.

Sarah couldn't help but remember when he had been born. She had been alone and scared when she had shown up at the hospital. She had been staying at a home for teen mothers-but it had shut down that morning.

All of that terror grew and grew until when it was time for her too push she was sure that Jareth would show up and take the child or that she would hate the child on sight because he would be just like his father.

Instead, the doctor had smiled sweetly at her.

"Its a boy," she remembered the doctor saying, before she had handed Sarah her son.

And all of her fears disappeared. She loved him instantly, the way his little brow was crinkled as if he was solving a difficult problem, the way the light shown through his little ears, how he just seemed to fit perfectly in her arms….

She swore she would always be there for him, she'd give him the best she could. She knew there would be highs and lows-but all she needed was him. Her little boy. From this moment life for Sarah felt like life had begun.

"Matthew," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "My little Matthew*."

Her child's voice snapped her out of the memory.

"Moma?" she met his wide blue eyes again. He looked down at the table guiltily.

"What is it sweetie?" she asked, setting his after-school snack on the table as sirens went off down the street. She guessed it was probably something bad-and couldn't wait until next week when she got her promotion and they would finally be able to afford a better place. A place where she wouldn't have to live in fear of being robbed when she walked up the flight of stairs to their apartment.

She would have gone to her father long ago-but he wouldn't go against Karen. And her mother had long since been gone-Sarah knew she had purposely stopped contacting her after she had been told of her daughter's pregnancy.

Eight years was too long to live in a place like this.

They had lived somewhere else before-another home for teen mothers. Sarah smiled as she remembered Matt's first words there ("moma" had been his first-much to her delight) and that he had taken his first steps there as well-but they had to leave there when Sarah had turned eighteen.

"C'mon, what is it?" she smiled at him-something she could only do around him without starting to fall into pieces.

"Well…" Matthew really didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to see that disappointment.

"Well?" she raised her eyebrows as she took an oat-meal raisin cookie off of the plate she had just set down.

They both looked toward the door when they heard a sudden knock.

Sarah ruffled his hair-dropping her cellphone by his homework as she always did when there was a knock. Once, Matthew had to call the police when a man had knocked Sarah against the door and proceeded to try and rob them.

The police had only arrived to find a man-the size of a killer whale thanks to steroids-crying for his mother, an unconscious woman, and her son wrapping his arms around her-trying to protect her.

Sarah didn't know what he did-but she left the phone there so he would call the police before he did anything rash-but she knew he had done _something._

She unlocked the door-but left the chain on the door hooked.

"Yes?" Even after all this time, Sarah had a hard time around people. She could only relax around her son and Toby. But even that was strained-because she was always afraid that _he _would take them away from her.

"Ya forgot to pay your rent this month," the man said. He was tall, and only Sarah's age, and mildly attractive in a bad boy kind of way. The only woman he had seen that he had never gotten was Sarah-and that was because he reminded her painfully of_him_. Though they were night and day in looks.

"The rent isn't due until Thursday," she whispered, knowing fully well that was a full four days from now.

"Early this month, pay up," he said, holding out his hand.

"I can't, I don't get paid until tomorrow," she told him honestly. Currently all of her money went to gas, food, and this apartment-and often times she nearly ran out of gas days before her paycheck.

He hit the door, and Sarah let out a small shriek as she let go of the door. He hit it again-and it fell from the hinges-remarkably the chain stayed in place, a part of Sarah's brain realized.

"I can't pay today," she repeated, backing slowly through the living room that was more of a entry way into the apartment.

"I say you can," he said, his eyes raking up and down her body.

"No!" _Not again, please, God, not again._

His grin was predatory.

"Hell ya," he lunged foreword and grabbed her, pulling her to him.

Sarah couldn't help but let out a small scream-and this time Matt came running into the room.

"Let her go!" he shouted, Sarah couldn't see him, and the landlord looked up and grinned.

"Make me squirt," he said, easily ripping Sarah's clothes from her body.

Sarah pushed away from him, grabbing Matt's arm and pulling him into the back room where there was a fire escape just out the window.

"Go!" she shoved the window open-knowing the door would only hold him back for a second since there was no lock.

"Moma," he said, as she helped him through-as the door flew open.

Sarah grabbed the closest thing to her-the alarm clock-and threw it. It made a satisfying crunch on the side of his head (in Matt's opinion). To Matt's pleasure, it also started bleeding.

"You little bitch," he lunged forward and grabbed her. "Forget sex, I'll just kill you now."

"NO!" Matt screamed-and ran foreword. Electricity seemed to crackle around him, but the landlord merely pushed him away.

The landlord hit Sarah-repeatedly. In the face, against objects, with objects-but no matter how hard Sarah fought, it was useless. As always she was the weaker one. The one that would be forever dealing with the consequences of someone else's actions (though she would never regret Matt-ever).

By the time Matt managed to get back to his feet, his mother and the landlord looked awful. Though Sarah wasn't much of a fighter-she had learned a bit since she had been in the Labyrinth.

"Stop it!" he ran again for the landlord-but he put his mother in the way.

"Get out of here boy," he snarled. "You're lucky, I'm letting you live."

Matt wanted to grin at the sight of blood dripping out of his obviously broken nose-but the urge disappeared when he saw the blood drip onto his mother's face, the landlord's arm wrapped around her neck.

"No," he snarled-starting to lose it the way he had earlier today.

"Matthew," his mother's voice, soft and gentle as always when she spoke to him. "Matt, go, please."

He took in her tear streaked face-tears starting to fall down his own face. No matter how much he wished differently-he was just a ten year old boy. What could he do? His father…well, he didn't have a father to teach him these things.

As a matter of fact, he just never had one-he knew he _had_ one, but not one like the other kids. He always dreamed that his dad would come and take him and mom away-where his mom would be treated like a queen (they way she deserved to be treated)-to a place where they were a family, where they were safe.

"Matthew…" Sarah begged her son. Let him go, let him get away, let him live…

"I wish my dad would come and save us! Right now!" the little boy said, not knowing what would happen-saying it only on impulse. The landlord laughed.

"Matthew! NO!" Sarah cried out, but it was too late. He had already said his right words.

Matthew looked at his mom-before he blinked-and found himself somewhere else.

He looked and saw a man there-he blinked, it was like looking at an older version of himself.

"My mom…" he cried, not knowing who he was-but he had a feeling it was him who had brought him here.

The man sighed, revealing a British accent. "Alright."

He vanished, and Matthew gasped.

Stuff like that didn't just _happen_…

Sarah saw Matt disappear, and for a second she was thankful.

Until she remembered where he had wished himself.

She felt the man's arms release her suddenly, and then there was a sickening crack-and she saw the man laying there-eyes wide and staring. Lifeless.

"Sarah," she froze at the sound. and she looked up-

He was still as imposing-and attractive-as ever. But he looked like he had lived in hell for the past ten years.

He held out his hand.

"He's mine, isn't he?"

"Yes," Sarah trembled, losing her balance and falling.

He caught her-thinking only of how good-how _right_-she felt in his arms. Then she heard his whisper.

"Let's go home, precious thing."

END

_*Matthew-Gift of God_


End file.
